Merry Christmas, Sammy
by winchesterlove94
Summary: Christmas for the Winchester boys through the years...Several short oneshots together.


**Hey guys!**

**I meant to have this out before the holidays, but it's been pretty hectic! And come on, let's be honest...when have I ever gotten an update out on time? Hahah :] So I apologize for my laziness, but hope this one-shot makes up for it!**

**Happy holidays everyone!**

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><p><em>Christmas 1982<em>

"And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, 'Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night'." Mary finished with a soft smile as she shut the book in front of her.

"Read it again, Mommy!" Three year old Dean squealed, jumping to his feet and pulling on Mary's nightgown.

"Again?" Mary questioned in disbelief as she ruffled Dean's mop of curly blonde hair. "But I already read it two times, sweetie."

"And if you don't go to sleep soon, Santa's not going to come." John added from the doorway, smiling at his son before sharing a fond look with Mary.

"Oh, no! Santa won't come?" Dean shrieked, his mouth gaping open. "I gotta go to bed, Mommy!"

"Alright, calm down pistol, you'll wake the neighbors." John laughed, coming to stand beside Mary, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Oops, sorry." Dean whispered. "I gotta go to bed, Mommy." He repeated significantly softer, grabbing Mary's hand and pulling at her to stand up.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming, Dean." Mary sighed with a laugh, wrapping an arm around her stomach as John helped her to her feet. "Phew, the baby's really kicking tonight, John."

"I think we got a soccer player on our hands." John noted, putting his hand on the small of Mary's back until she was steady on her feet.

"Come on!" Dean continued in a hushed voice, bolting towards his bed and diving onto it, pulling the covers up to his chin.

Mary followed Dean and sat on the edge of his bed as John turned on the nightlights around the room. "Dean, your Dad and I have some news for you." She said softly, tucking the covers around Dean. "You remember when I told you I had your baby brother or sister living in my tummy?"

"Yeah! You said that the baby would grow in your tummy until it was big and strong like me." Dean replied with a grin.

"That's right." Mary cooed, ticking Dean's stomach as he giggled gleefully. "Well, I went to the doctor's today, and we found out that you're going to have a baby brother."

"A baby brother?" Dean repeated, John kneeling by the side of his bed.

"Yes, Dean." Mary said with a nod, both parents watching Dean carefully. Dean laid for a moment, a contemplative look on his face.

"What's his name?" He asked suddenly.

"Well," John spoke up, glancing at Mary. "We haven't decided yet. We just wanted to see how you felt about having a brother."

Dean paused and thought for a moment. "I...I guess it's okay."

"It'll be great Dean." Mary added with a smile. "I promise."

"Can I teach him how to play football?"

"Sure, when he's bigger." Mary said with a laugh.

"And soccer?"

"Yes."

"And how to draw?"

"If you want."

"Okay!" Dean agreed with a cheeky grin, beginning to like the idea of being brother.

"But the most important thing you have to do is always watch out for your brother. Now that you're going to be a big brother, you gotta keep your eye on him, keep him safe." John added, pushing the hair off Dean's face.

"Okay." He said seriously, nodding his head. Mary and John visibly let out a sigh of relief at his acceptance to the news, as they stood up. "What are you gonna name him?" Dean asked again, sitting up on his elbows.

Mary shared a loving look with John and rubbed circles around her stomach. "Well, what do you think of the name Sam? Like your Grandpa."

"Sam?" Dean repeated.

"Yes. Sam." John said.

"Sam..." Dean said once again. "I like it." He squealed in approval, lying back down on his bed. "Sam."

Mary and John laughed as they leaned in to say goodnight. "Goodnight, buddy. Santa will come as soon as you go to sleep." He said, as he ruffled Dean's hair.

"Goodnight, Dean. I love you." Mary whispered, leaning in and kissing Dean on the forehead. "Remember, angels are watching over you, sweetie." She added softly as she moved to leave the room.

"Wait!" Dean called after her, as Mary turned around.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I wanna say g'night to Sam." Dean stated, a smile stretching across Mary's face as she moved back towards Dean. He placed a hand softly on Mary's stomach, and instantly felt a kick. "Mommy! Did you feel that? Sam kicked!"

"I did feel that, Dean!" Mary said with a laugh, John watching from the door.

Dean patted Mary's stomach before leaning in and whispering, "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

* * *

><p><em>Christmas 1983<em>

It had been fifty two days.

Fifty two days since that night.

Fifty two days since the Winchesters' lives changed forever.

It was crazy how much could change in just one year.

A year ago today, John and Mary had been telling Dean that he would soon be a big brother. And now, here he was in some crap motel room, drowning his sorrows away with liquor while his four year old and seven month old sons were sitting in the other room.

"God, I miss you Mary..." John whispered downing another bottle of beer. He had lost track of the days, of the time. He was drowning in a world of despair.

"Daddy?" A soft voice suddenly spoke up, drawing John's attention to the door. Dean's head stuck out around the corner, his eyes looking so old and tired for only being four years old. The kid barely talked. Just a few words here or there. John could hear him whispering to Sam at night sometimes, though.

"What?" John slurred, popping open another bottle.

"Uh...Daddy, is Santa coming tonight?" He croaked, his voice scratchy from not being used. "'Cause, what if he can't find us here? 'Cause we're not at home..."

John was surprised to hear more than three words escape Dean's lips. He was even more surprised that it was Christmas Eve. He hadn't even realized what day it was.

"Yeah...no...I don't know." John mumbled incoherently.

"But Daddy, it's Sam's first Christmas...What if Santa-"

John slammed his hand down on the table, his head pounding. "Not now, Dean." He growled, refusing to look at his son. It was too much of a painful reminder of his Mary. They looked so similar.

"But-"

"It's time you grow up, Dean. Santa's not real." John continued harshly. Tears pooled Dean's eyes as he turned around and ran from the room, his heart broken in a million pieces. John slumped in defeat, a new wave of guilt hitting him.

"M' sorry, Mary..." He whispered as he threw down another beer.

Tears rained down Dean's face as he dropped onto the floor next to Sam, the baby rolling around on his back. Dean sniffled and wiped his runny nose, his lip jutted out. Sam gurgled and stared at Dean, reaching his tiny hands towards the older brother.

"It's okay, Sam." He whispered, leaning forward and lying on his stomach next to Sam. "Next Christmas will be better, I promise."

Sam reached his chubby hand towards Dean's face and laid his hand on his cheek, pushing the tears away before giggling loudly. Dean couldn't help but smile back, placing a soft kiss on Sam's forehead.

"Merry Christmas, Sammy."

* * *

><p><em>Christmas 1988<em>

"Dean! Dean! Dean!" Five year old Sam squealed as he bounced up and down.

"What Sam?" Nine year old Dean sighed as he put away the leftover mac n' cheese he had made for dinner.

"Do you really think Santa's gonna come tonight? Is he gonna ride his sleigh? Is he gonna bring presents? Is he gonna say 'Ho, ho, ho'?" He questioned rapidly.

Dean stared at his brother with tired eyes. Sam had been hyped up all night, and it was beginning to wear Dean down. "Dude, remind me next time to not give you sugar before bed."

"Okay! Okay!" Sam giggled, jumping up and down on one of the beds in the motel room they were staying at.

"Get down, Sam, before you break your neck." Dean ordered firmly, Sam plopping down. "Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yup." Sam said with a quick nod.

"Did you put away your toys?"

"Yup."

"Did you turn off the T.V?"

"Yup, yup." He responded, popping the 'p'.

"Alright, then it's time for bed."

"We gotta put out the cookies and milk for Santa first!" Sam argued, blowing his long bangs out of his eyes.

"Right." Dean remembered, nodding his head and motioning Sam over. "Here, put these next to the tree." He said as he handed over three Oreos to Sam and a glass of milk.

"Yay!" Sam cheered, grabbing the food and rushing over to their make-shift tree. It was a dingy bush that Dean had cut into the shape of a tree and decorated with crumpled balls of colored paper. Sam set down the milk and cookies before running back to Dean's side, practically vibrating in place. "I can't wait for Santa to come!"

Dean laughed in spite of himself and tousled the unruly dark hair on Sam's head. "I can see that."

"Aren't you excited?" Sam questioned with a lopsided grin. Dean nodded silently, a lump forming in his throat. He almost wished he had the innocence Sam had. "This is the best Christmas ever!" He giggled, throwing himself at Dean and wrapping his little arms around his brother's waist.

Dean grinned and returned the hug before pushing Sam off of him. "Now get off of me, you freak." He teased lovingly. "Get in bed."

Sam instantly dived onto his bed, Dean following close behind.

"Alright, go to sleep." Dean sighed, climbing onto his own bed.

"Hey, Dean...Is Daddy gonna be back for Christmas tomorrow?" Sam asked, staring at Dean with big eyes.

"I don't know, Sam. Maybe." Dean responded monotonously, already knowing that John wouldn't be back from his newest hunt. "Go to sleep Sam, or Santa won't come."

"Okay," Sam said softly, squeezing his eyes shut. "G'night Dean." He whispered, his eyes drooping. It amazed Dean at how quickly Sam could fall asleep, even hopped up on sugar.

"Night, Sam." Dean sighed, crossing his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He waited until he heard Sam's breathing even out, before peeking a look at his brother. After making sure he was asleep, Dean crept out of bed quietly.

Dean snuck over to the closet by the door and grabbed the three presents he had stashed in there, messily wrapped with newspaper. He snuck over to the tree and placed them gingerly underneath, before gobbling down the three cookies and drinking most of the milk.

Dean stared wistfully at the gifts under the tree. He hadn't had enough money to buy actual gifts, so he wrapped up some of his own belongings. His only G.I. Joe, a shirt he had that was too small on him, and a pair of sneakers he had stolen from the Wal-Mart down the street.

Of course he knew stealing was wrong, but he hadn't gotten caught and he wanted Sam to have a good Christmas.

Dean turned and headed back to his bed, stopping by Sam on his way there. Sam's lip was jutted out, a soft snoring escaping his lips. Dean smiled fondly and gently ruffled his mop of brown hair.

"Merry Christmas, Sammy."

* * *

><p><em>Christmas 1991<em>

Twelve year old Dean quietly snuck into the motel room, softly shutting the door behind him. He adjusted the gifts in his hands and headed over to the tree he had stolen outside of some run down market, placing them underneath.

It hadn't been hard breaking into that house down the street. The family had left their windows wide open, easy access inside. Dean didn't see it as breaking and entering...more like a lesson towards them to learn to lock up at night. He had snagged two of the gifts under the tree before running all the way back to the motel.

Eight year old Sam was still sleeping, his mind now full of the truth. A part of Dean wished his brother had never found their Dad's journal and that Sam could have stayed in the dark just a little while longer. But the kid was a genius, and it wasn't hard to tell that Sam knew he was being lied to.

Another thing that tore at Dean's heart was that when he told Sam Santa wasn't real, he could have sworn he saw disappointment in those hazel eyes.

But regardless, Sam was going to find out the truth sooner or later anyway. But it didn't make it any easier.

He walked over to Sam's bed and shook his brother a couple times. "Sam, wake up!" Dean spoke up, Sam instantly jolting awake. He glanced around and rubbed his eyes as they landed on his brother. "Dad was here. Look what he brought."

"Dad was here?" Sam croaked, his voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah. Look at this, we made a killing." He continued.

"Why didn't he try to wake me up?" Sam questioned through a yawn, pushing up from the bed.

"He tried to, like a thousand times." Dean lied smoothly, moving away from Sam's bed.

"He did?"

Dean nodded quickly, before sitting on the couch by the tree. "Yeah. Did I tell you he would give us Christmas or what?" He added with a smile before nodding to the presents. "Go on, dive in." He watched as Sam jumped over the couch and grabbed the gifts, tearing them open. "What is it?"

Sam stared at the box in his hands before glancing at Dean with a confused expression. "Sapphire Barbie?"

Dean glanced at the box, before a smile spread across his face. "Dad probably thinks you're a girl." He laughed.

"Shut up!" Sam sighed, tossing the Barbie aside.

"Open that one." Dean continued, nudging towards the other box. Sam quickly unwrapped it, coming across a cheer stick. He quirked an eyebrow and stared at Dean.

"Dad never showed, did he?" Sam questioned, knowing deep down that it was true.

"Yeah, he did, I swear." Dean argued.

Sam sighed, putting down the cheer stick and looking at his brother. "Dean…Where'd you get all this stuff?"

Dean paused for a moment, realizing that there was no point in lying anymore. "Nice house up the block." He admitted, as Sam scoffed and glanced away. "I swear I didn't know they were chick presents." He added honestly, Sam nodding. "Look, I'm sure dad would have been here if he could."

"If he's alive." Sam muttered under his breath.

"Don't say that. Of course he's alive. He's dad." Dean defended.

Sam glanced at his brother before reaching behind him for the gift he had wrapped earlier. The one Bobby had given him to give to his Dad. "Here, take this." He said, offering the neatly, newspaper wrapped gift.

"No, no. That's for dad."

"Dad lied to me. I want you to have it." Sam pressed, shooting Dean the puppy dog eyes.

Dean bit his lip and stared at the gift. It _had_ been a while since he had gotten a gift that wasn't a hunting knife or gun... "You sure?"

Sam nodded quickly before handing it over. "I'm sure."

Dean carefully opened the gift, enjoying the moment. He pulled out a gold amulet on a black leather cord. He had no idea what the little amulet meant or stood for, but he loved it. "Thank you, Sam. I-I love it." His heart melted as he put it around his head and laid it on his chest. Something within him stirred and everything just felt right. Like he had been missing this necklace all along.

"Merry Christmas, Dean." Sam said softly, a warm feeling spreading throughout him at Dean's reaction.

"Merry Christmas, Sammy."

* * *

><p><em>Christmas 1998<em>

"Put your back into it, Grandpa." Nineteen year old Dean teased with a grin on his face, staring down at Sam.

"Let's see you get your lazy ass in here and dig this grave up then, huh?" Fifteen year old Sam snapped, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"I did the first three feet, dude. You got the last three."

Sam grumbled under his breath as he continued digging, shoveling the dirt out.

"Good God, we're going to be here until next Christmas at this rate." Dean complained loudly, pacing back and forth. Sam tossed a shovel full of dirt at Dean, earning a glare from the older brother. "Oh, that's nice. Real mature."

"Then shut up." Sam growled, muttering something about 'pain in the ass big brothers', before continuing to dig. Moments later, he hit something solid and wedged the shovel into the coffin, tearing open the top.

The stench of the rotten body hit Sam, not something he wasn't used to though. Dean reached in and grabbed Sam's hand, pulling him out of the hole. "Grab the salt from my duffel bag over there." Dean said, motioning towards his bag as he sprayed accelerant onto the body.

Sam headed over to the bag, searching for the salt amongst the array of weapons.

"What's taking you so- Sam, watch out!" Dean shouted, the spirit appearing right beside Sam. He watched as the ghost flung Sam's body across the graveyard, landing with a thud on the ground. Sam quickly rose to his feet, a pained expression on his face as he clutched his arm. "Sammy!"

"Dean, behind you!" Sam yelled, just as the spirit appeared behind Dean, throwing him across the graveyard as well, his head colliding into a headstone. Everything spun around Dean, but he could just make out the spirit approaching Sam.

"Hey!" Dean roared, "Over here!" He slurred, hoping to distract the spirit. It began to come towards Dean, just as Sam reached the duffle bag, grabbed the salt and threw some onto the grave. Dean tossed Sam his lighter, the younger brother catching it with one hand, and throwing the flame into the pit.

The spirit screamed as it burst into flames before disintegrating in front of Dean. "Burn, bitch, burn." He muttered, lying back down as he head throbbed.

"Dean!" Sam called out, rushing to Dean's side. "Are you okay?" He questioned with concern.

"Peachy." Dean muttered. "Help me up." He sighed, Sam helping him to his feet. Sam wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, cradling his own arm, as the brothers limped back towards the Impala.

Sam sighed, his body tired, as he glanced at Dean before staring ahead, a slight grin tracing his lips. "Merry Christmas, Dean."

Dean smiled at Sam, feeling his vision fading in and out. "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

* * *

><p><em>Christmas 2003<em>

Dean stared at the phone in his hands, his finger hovering above the call button. "Come on, Dean. Grow a pair and call him." He muttered to himself, completely torn.

He groaned as he snapped the phone shut and tossed it aside, running a hand over his weary face. Dean glanced outside the motel window and saw the steady flow of snow ascending from the sky. Just across the street, he could see a house lit with Christmas lights and a family sitting by a fire, laughing and smiling.

Dean wanted that.

Happiness.

He wanted his family back together. He wanted Sam to come back. He wanted his Dad to, for once, not put a hunt in front of his kids. It was Christmas Eve and Dean was alone in the motel room with a six pack.

"Come on, you pansy. Just call the kid." Dean growled to himself, pacing back and forth. It had been hard without Sam. Really hard.

Dean had spent his entire life protecting his brother, keeping him safe and out of harm's way. And now, Sam was off at college, unprotected. He had been happy about Sam's acceptance to Stanford. He'd been proud. But he didn't like the idea of Sam off on his own.

This was the first Christmas that the brothers would be apart. It had been four months since Sam had left, and not once had he called Dean. He pretended like it didn't bother him, but deep down, Dean was hurt. His entire life, for over twenty years, had revolved around Sam, and then all of a sudden, he was cut out of Dean's life, just like that.

Dean popped open a beer and took a swig, sitting back down on the single bed. He subconsciously grabbed the amulet that laid on his chest and twirled it around his fingers.

In just one night, his family had been ripped apart. The day Sam told he and his Dad that he was going to Stanford, everything had changed. He vividly remembered that fight, the harsh words said. That fight had broken up the small, dwindling family.

Dean felt a lump grow in his throat at the realization that he'd be spending Christmas alone. He missed Sam. More than he thought he ever would.

Dean chugged the bottle and set it aside, heaving a sigh. He grabbed his phone and scrolled down to Sam's name, staring at screen for a minute. He took a deep breath, before hitting the call button and pressing the phone to his ear.

It ran seven times, before a beep sounded and Sam's recorded voice came over the line. _"Hey, this is Sam. I'm not here right now, so leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks." _

He had a new voicemail.

He sounded different to Dean.

He sounded happy.

Dean heard the beep and cleared his throat. "Uh, hey Sam, it's uh, it's Dean. I just wanted to see how you were doing...makin' sure you didn't get yourself killed out there in California." He forced an awkward laugh before clearing his throat. "So, uh, yeah. Call me back if you want or if you're, uh, not busy or anything..."

It was obvious Sam didn't want to talk to him. Dean cut off and moved his mouth away from the phone, hurt masking his eyes. "Sammy, take care of yourself, okay? For me?"

Dean wouldn't bother Sam anymore. But if he ever needed Dean, the older brother knew he'd always be there and he'd always pick up.

"Merry Christmas, Sammy."

* * *

><p><em>Christmas 2007<em>

Sam tried to keep busy, to keep his mind occupied.

But no matter what he did, he couldn't get rid of that voice in the back of his mind that kept saying, _'The year is running out...'_

He hung up a sign that read 'Merry Christmas' and finished decorating the small tree he had snagged at a Christmas tree farm dump. The tree wasn't anything spectacular; it barely had any branches left. But Sam made the best he could with it. The motel door suddenly opened and Dean walked in, pausing as he took in the room.

"Hey, you get the beer?" Sam asked, grabbing a cup of eggnog.

Dean continued to stare, looking amazed. "What's all this?"

"What do you think it is? It's- it's Christmas."

A small smile spread across Dean's face as he looked at his brother. "What made you change your mind?"

Sam paused, before quickly changing the subject. "Here, try the eggnog. Let me know if it needs some more kick."

Dean took a sip, staring at the drink in surprise. "No, we're good."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, a huge smile etched across his face.

"Yeah." Dean replied with a nod, grinning himself.

"Good." He laughed, turning around. Dean's face turned to disgust as he stared at the drink while Sam wasn't looking, before returning to normal when his brother turned back around. "Well uh, have a seat. Let's do Christmas stuff...or whatever." Sam continued, taking a seat on the couch.

"All right, first thing's first." Dean cut in, sitting next to Sam. "Merry Christmas, Sam." He said with a smile, handing over a present.

"Where'd you get these?"

"Someplace special." Dean responded. Sam looked over at him, quirking an eyebrow. "The gas mart down the street." He admitted sheepishly. "Open them up."

Sam laughed as he grabbed something next to him. "Well, great minds think alike, Dean."

"Really?" Dean commented in surprise as he took the gift.

Sam grinned as he tore open Dean's gifts. "Skin mags!" He laughed, Dean nodding in satisfaction. "And…shaving cream!"

"You like?" Dean questioned with a smile.

"Yeah...yeah." Sam replied with a nod.

Dean opened his own gifts and held them up. "Look at this..." He continued, holding up an energy bar and a can of oil. "Fuel for me and fuel for my baby. These are awesome. Thanks."

"Good." Sam responded, a sudden sadness crossing his face. A heavy silence took over, each brother thinking the same thought. They knew that this Christmas could be their last Christmas together. "Hey, Dean..." Sam started before hesitating, a look of misery in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, before sighing and glancing at Dean. "Do you feel like watching the game?"

Dean stared at Sam, reading between the lines and understanding what Sam was going to say. He'd always been good at deciphering his brother. He forced a grin on his face and picked up his drink. "Absolutely."

"All right." Sam said with a nod, standing up and turning on the TV.

Dean's year was almost over, and more than likely, by next Christmas he'd be in Hell. But that moment, right then, was all that mattered. They were both alive and they were together.

Sam smiled at his brother before holding up his eggnog to Dean's. "Merry Christmas, Dean."

Dean grinned back and tapped his glass against Sam's, feeling happier than he had in a long time. "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

* * *

><p><em>Christmas 2010<em>

Dean felt nothing.

Sure, he smiled when he was supposed to. He laughed on cue. He even made snarky comments sometimes. But they were all an act. He was on autopilot.

"Babe, did you lock up?" Lisa Braden called from the stairway. She waited for a response, but when none came, she headed down the stairs to the front pad. "Babe?" She called again, walking into the living room.

Dean sat on the couch in silence, staring at the huge, decorative tree in front of him, lit with various lights. A fire was roaring in the fireplace and mounds of presents were scattered beneath the tree.

He wasn't used to this picture during the holidays.

"Dean?" Lisa said, coming up behind him and placing her hand softly on his shoulder.

Dean jumped, and bolted to his feet, instantly going into hunter mode.

Force of habit.

"Lisa." Dean breathed, running a hand over his face.

"Yeah, Dean. Babe, you okay?" Lisa asked worriedly.

"What? Yeah, yeah...I'm fine." Dean sighed, focusing on slowing his heartbeat down. "Sorry, I, uh, I didn't hear you."

"It's okay. Did you lock up?"

"Course." Dean said with a nod, forcing a small smile on his face. "I'll be up in a minute."

Lisa nodded and walked over to Dean, wrapping her arms around his neck. Dean placed his hands around her waist, almost robotically, and stared out the window behind her at the steady snowfall. "Dean, I'm worried about you." She whispered, placing her chin on his shoulder.

"Don't be. I'm fine, Lis, really." He responded monotonously.

"It's just, after everything with Sam-"

"Why don't you go up to bed?" Dean interrupted quickly, pulling out of Lisa's embrace.

Lisa crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Dean with concern. "Dean, you can't bottle everything in. I know how much Sam meant to you and-"

"Lisa-"

"-it's okay if you want to talk about him. I mean, it's Christmas and Sam's gone-"

"Stop!" Dean yelled, Lisa jumping in the process. "Alright, just...stop." He finished in a softer tone, not wanting to wake up Ben upstairs. "I can't, Lisa. I'm sorry, but I can't. Go up to bed. I'll be there in a minute."

Lisa stared at Dean, before moving in and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Dean." She whispered. "Merry Christmas, babe."

"You too." Dean said softly, a small smile on his face. As soon as Lisa left the room, that smile dropped and Dean felt a lump grow in his throat.

How could he sit here and celebrate Christmas, while he knew Sam was being tortured in hell? What the hell was he doing here? This wasn't his life and it never would be. Every fiber in his body wanted to off himself, but he couldn't because of that damn promise he'd made his brother.

Dean felt like he was experiencing his own hell, right there on Earth.

He walked over to the window and glanced outside, a huge empty hole sitting where his heart used to be. He wanted his brother back. Even if Dean tried to occupy himself with other things, with this fake life, nothing could take his mind off Sam.

This Christmas meant nothing to Dean.

Not without Sam.

Dean stared at the snow falling and felt tears well in his eyes as he whispered, "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

* * *

><p><em>Christmas 2011<em>

"Would one of you idjits get your lazy asses over here and help me finish this tree?"

"Gettin' a little cranky in your old age, aren't you Bobby?" Dean retorted with a smirk, glancing back at the cards in his hands. "Come on, cheer up Scrooge, it's Christmas!"

"Bah humbug." Bobby muttered, climbing down the ladder. "You remember that you're the one staying at my house, boy." He pointed out, smacking Dean lightly upside the head. Both hunters knew there was no harshness in his words. Bobby considered the Winchesters as his own and they were welcome anytime.

Dean grinned cheekily at Bobby before slapping down his hand of cards. "Woo! Full House!" He cheered, reaching his hands out to collect the strewn money across the table.

"Hey, that's a good hand, Dean...but wow, would you look at this...a Straight Flush." Sam countered with a lopsided smile, Dean's hands halting their movement.

Dean stared at Sam's cards, his mouth slightly dropped open as Bobby muffled his laughter. "Cheater!" He accused, pushing up from his chair and standing up, pointing at Sam furiously. "You cheat! Bobby! He cheated!"

"What?" Sam questioned incredulously. "I didn't cheat! Bobby, tell him!"

"Liar! You lie and you cheat!" Dean continued, looking back and forth between the hand of cards and his brother.

"You're just jealous because I beat you at poker." Sam said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

"You didn't beat me, gigantor. You cheated."

"I didn't cheat, moron!"

"Bobby!" Dean and Sam yelled at once, staring at their surrogate father.

Bobby held up his hands, taking a step back from the table. "I ain't touching this one with a ten foot pole." He mumbled, heading back to the Christmas tree placed in his living room.

"Fine." Dean ground out. "Rematch. Right now." He continued, sitting back down.

"What? No way. I beat you fair and square!" Sam protested, getting up from the table. "Besides, we just spent like two hours playing!" He finished, going to collect the money.

"Oh, I get it. You're too chicken. Afraid I'll catch you cheating again, right?" He challenged with a smirk.

"I'm not falling for this one, dude."

"It's alright, Sammy. You're little cheating secret is safe with me." Dean continued, staring at Sam with daring eyes.

"Don't fall for it, Sam." Sam mumbled to himself.

"You and I both know you'd never win again."

"Shut up and deal!" Sam exclaimed, sitting back down on his chair, Dean chuckling under his breath as he gathered up the cards.

"Hey! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum! I ain't askin' you again to come help!" Bobby called from the next room over.

Dean and Sam laughed as they got up, Dean shoving Sam gently aside. "When we get back, your ass is mine, Sasquatch."

"Don't count on it, midget." Sam retorted with a smirk, shoving Dean back.

The brothers came into the living room and stared at the huge tree, covered in lights and ornaments. "Wow." They both breathed, surprised at how well it turned out.

"It's nothin'. Just found some of Karen's old decorations in the attic...figured we'd have ourselves a real Christmas this year, considering..." Bobby trailed off, not having to finish the sentence.

None of the hunters ever really had the chance to celebrate Christmas together. But Sam's soul had just been restored, there was no big bad to face at the moment...thing were looking up for a change, so why waste the moment?

"Well, aren't you just a regular Martha Stewart?" Dean pointed out with a grin.

"Pipe it, jackass. Like you could've done any better." Bobby retorted with a smirk. "There are just a couple things left to put up, so have at it." He finished, motioning to the rest of the ornaments.

Dean and Sam grabbed a few each and placed them on the tree, Bobby watching with a smile on his face. They stepped back to admire their work, Bobby coming to stand in between them.

"Looks real nice, boys. I'm gonna get dinner ready." He said, clapping each of them on their back before leaving the room.

"Huh." Sam muttered thoughtfully.

"What?"

"It's just-it's weird, you know? Being back here. Being with you. Celebrating Christmas, like-...like a normal family."

"It's kinda nice, right?"

Sam nodded, sharing a look with Dean. "Yeah. It's nice."

"Sam, it's good to have you back." Dean said softly with a smile, each brother staring at the tree. "It's been a hell of a year." He continued, squeezing Sam's shoulder.

"Tell me about it." Sam muttered, sighing contently.

The lights twinkled on the tree, the smell of a home cooked meal wafting through the air. The brother's hearts were swelling with warmth at this feeling.

It'd been a while since they felt like a real family.

Like they were at home.

"Merry Christmas, Dean." Sam spoke up in a quiet voice, taking in the moment.

Dean glanced over at his brother, a real smile tracing his lips for the first time in a long time. True happiness flowing within him, something he hadn't felt in a while. The brother shared a look, before focusing back on the beautiful tree.

"Merry Christmas, Sammy."

**There you have it!**

**I'd love to hear your thoughts about it!**

**Thanks for reading!**


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